19 October 2017

Meeting his old friends

Jet lag had gotten the better of me. Plus I had had no sleep last night because of my flight times. Thus, I had inevitably gone off to sleep after lunch having spent some more time with my dad and the nephews.

When I woke up, daylight had started fading. Walked over to dad’s room and saw that he was surrounded by the domestic helps and my mom. I asked him if he would like to go out. He promptly shook his head signaling he had no interest.

Well, a good guess would have been that I would have left matters there. But, we are talking about me here. A few minutes later, I had put him in his wheelchair and in about another minute, I was out pushing him in the streets. Behind me were my brother and my nephews.

First, he kept on admiring the lights. If I had not mentioned before, it was Diwali day. Every house was decorated with colorful lights. Dad just kept saying how beautiful those lights were. What he did not realize was that there was a particular place I was taking him to.

Before long, we had reached the spot where he used to get together with a few other old people when he was stronger and had the ability to walk. I placed him in that off-the-street-corner location and we all stood around him and started chatting.

And then a funny thing happened. An innocuous looking old man who was peacefully shuffling along suddenly looked at my dad and with clear surprise in his voice, yelled – “Roy-babu?” Once he realized that it was my dad, he sat down there too.

And then came along another old gentleman. Slowly there was a small get together of the old folks that started forming there. At one point (you will see my nephew holding a phone to my dad’s ear, one of those elderly person called up another of their old friends and had him talk to my dad!

At that point, my brother mentioned something. It is then that I realized that my father was saying multiple words together. So far, he had been mostly grunting one or at best two words and then everything else would be a slur.

As I tried to follow what they were talking about. I realized that I was still not following dad’s words much!! Actually, I was not following very well the other gentlemen’s words either. Turns out all of them had had brain strokes or heart strokes before (even multiple). All of them have difficulty in speech. But among them, they were chatting along – seemingly effortlessly!

In all this confusion, my sister and niece showed up with some tasty fritters from a street side vendor. We all had some nice snacks standing there and chatting idly.

Eventually, we all left and I took my dad to a few more streets to see the bright lights before going back home.

19 October 2017

Thanks for not spilling the secret!!!

That was quite a surprise sprung on everybody. In fact, most had not noticed me even when I walked in straight to the inside room where my dad was. The two assistants were on the bed holding him up and my mom was feeding him. She had her back towards me – she had no idea I was there. And the two assistants had no clue who I was either. I stood there for a couple of minutes or so when my mom looked back and got the shock of her life!!!

My dad’s condition is pretty much what you would expect from somebody who has had a brain stroke. He was able to recognize me but telling my name was quite an effort. For the next hour or so, I realized that he had lost his ability to lay down or get up by himself (his right side is paralyzed) and quite some of his faculties around memory and speech are gone.

But most painful is his realization that he has lost complete independence. His deep sense of helplessness – even simple things like he inability to express himself – is visibly driving him to tremendous frustration and anger.

I finally remembered something that I had learnt while visiting my friend – Samaresh’s dad. He was totally quiet till I had shown him a picture of his granddaughter in Atlanta in my phone.

As an aside, every December, I make one of those large twelve month Apple calendars – with pictures of Natasha, Nikita, Sharmila, Jay Jay (the dog) and myself (especially of our vacations) from that year and send them to my parents. And my dad, dutifully, puts them on the wall and often asks me about those pictures.

This morning, I brought down all those calendars and then started showing him one picture after another and asked them to recognize the people. Each picture was an effort. Many times he gave up (his choices were restricted to only five names). He missed me most of the time!! Recognized Sharmila, Natasha in all and then after an initial struggle with Nikita’s pictures, started consistently recognizing them.

Took us almost an hour to go thru one calendar!!!

And that was how the first couple of hours with him went…

18 October 2017

Amazing change in the last 10 years!!

If you wanted to get a first hand idea of how the middle class has prospered in India in the last decade or so, all you have to do is go to the domestic airports.

It is 3:30 AM now in Delhi!! And I am not even in the bigger international (and domestic) airport. I am in the old airport now that is dedicated to cheaper domestic airlines. The boarding gates are teeming with people. Not a single chair is empty. People are standing and even sitting on the staircase. Very orderly though. And I could take a picture of only half the side from the top of the escalator.

Infrastructure development at the airports have been very impressive too. Most are of international standards now with fairly efficient service and by my experience, very pleasant and helpful staff.

17 October 2017

The best laid plans of mice and men…

First of all, please help me in keeping this a secret. Do not let my immediate family in India know of this for another 36 hours.

Second, let me share with you something that I had not made public for a few weeks. You probably recollect my trip to India to see my parents from mid August. Well, my plan to see them next was Dec end. In fact, the daughters wanted to come too. Excitedly, I started the process of getting all passports renewed and new Indian visas stamped around the end of Sep. (still waiting the daughters’ visas).

In the middle of all this, my dad decided to have a brain stroke. His right side is paralyzed and he cannot speak!! To cut thru the last four weeks quickly, after a long stay in the hospital in Kolkata, my brother has successfully moved him back to home in Kalyani. He and the entire family supporting him are going thru a very tough adjustment process.

Thru all this, my brother, who is quarterbacking all the ground level realities there has been actively dissuading me from coming to India right now. He is worried that this might disrupt our December plans (and he would rather we all go to see my dad in December). He also thinks that at this juncture, I might add more work for my mom than actually be helpful. (She is undoubtedly going to worry about what I am going to eat). Finally he thinks, I should preserve money during an “off year”.

All good points. Except, a week back, Sharmila and I discussed and I decided to override my brother. So, here I am – at the familiar Atlanta airport international terminal again – headed to India to be with my dad hoping he can recognize me and say a couple of words.

Regarding my brother, while I am sure he is going to be very happy seeing me, I have also prepared my excuse codes…

(*) I will be landing at my parents place on Diwali day – the biggest festival day in all of India. I have not been with my family for Diwali since 1985.

(*) Saturday is “bhaiphonta” for us. I am not sure if there is something equivalent in the Western world – but this is where sisters celebrate their brothers with all sorts of ceremonies. (For college goers, this is like an anti-Valentine Day. If the girl tags you as her brother, you have pretty much reached the End Of File on that budding relationship 🙂 ). Anyways, my younger brother always goes to my sister’s house for this celebration every year and sends me pictures. Guess who is showing up this year?

(*) My brother and I have not had a drink together for way too long 🙂 I have to say thanks to him for the inhuman effort he has put in for the last four weeks.

I have my doubts if I can achieve much more than be with my dad and more importantly my family who are having a tough adjustment period getting used to a semi-invalid patient. But, if I can, highest on my list is visiting a couple of teachers from my early school days and say Thanks to them before I lose my chance. Most of them, I have not seen for 40 years or more.

Soooooo…. we have a deal, right? No breathing of this trip to my family in India. In fact, I am blocking them temporarily on Facebook so they cannot read this either…

16 October 2017

“Do Ra Mi”

The phone rang with the familiar tone when I call an India number.
Somebody picked it up and said “Hello”
It was early in the morning. I had to clear my throat and ask gingerly “Mrs. Paulraj?”
“Speaking? Who is this?”

That was a very difficult question to answer. How do you tell the person –

“Well, there is no way in God’s green earth you will know me if I tell you my name. Okay, it is Rajib. Rajib Roy. See? It made no difference. But here is the thing… In 1973, when I was in my first grade in Benachity Junior High School, you taught music to us. You used to sit on a piano and sing songs like Do Ra Me (from Sound of Music ) and, we, the kids, used to join in with a full spirited, high toned bleat. All of us except Mukundan. He was the bully in the class. You never liked him. Neither did we. So, you used to send him out to stand outside the class. If you really insist on crossing the t’s and dotting the i’s, well, he was required to hold his ears too”

What I said was “Ma’m, you were my teacher 44 years back. I was merely 7 years then”.

And to establish my credentials, I quickly rattled off about seven other teachers from that school that I am in touch with. That seemed to gain her confidence. The more updates I gave her about her colleagues from four decades back, the more believable I became to her.

I told her about the drama we did in our second grade. We had to do a play – Cinderella it was. I was one of the princes at the ball dance. (the last time I had danced, as I recollect). My dad had bought me princely clothes for that – bell-bottoms!!! Did I mention this was early 70s? 🙂 I also told Mrs. Paulraj about the time she had pulled me and my partner – Mousumi – aside and taught us how to synchronize our steps to her notes.

In the end, she had given up and told me “Just follow Mousumi’s instructions”. And that is what I had done. If it was not for Mousumi’s eye signals that night, I would have had no idea whether to step left or right. That stage light and all that face powder on me was too confusing!!!

“Ma’m, the reason I am calling you today is to thank you. You were part of a small set of folks who had a big influence on me in my formative years. I just wanted you to know that I am happy in the way I have turned out to be. And I wanted to take the time to say Thank You to you”.

A few heart to heart words later, I am now on to another adventure. Somehow, someday, I hope to see her physically in Salem, Tamil Nadu, India to tell her Thanks to her personally!!

16 October 2017

Another story from my hospice adventures

(All names changed to protect privacy of patients)
A couple of weeks back I had written about the gentleman who would call up his daughter after painstakingly making it to the phone and fishing out the chit of paper from his hat – remember? Remember, how I had talked about the unbridled love a dad has for his daughter?

Well, this is the flip side of the coin. Today, after visiting the same gentleman mentioned above, I went to visit Mrs. Ashley upstairs. I was looking forward to the conversation. To be honest, Mrs. Ashley is a nonagenarian who has been suffering from Parkinson’s from some time. She can’t hear much, she can’t talk much. So, you wonder what conversation am I talking about, right?

Do not get me wrong. I love seeing Mrs. Ashley. Those big eyes – that smile that never leaves her – those nods to anything I say (mostly because she can’t hear a thing) – sometimes, those quiet moments when we watch TV together (I have no idea what I am watching and I suspect that makes two of us) – I absolutely look forward to them. But what I really look forward to is seeing her daughter – Rachel.

If I visit Mrs. Ashley in the afternoon, I am guaranteed to meet Rachel. First, I want you to understand that Rachel is about twenty years older to me. Then I want you to understand that Rachel was hit with cancer. She valiantly fought back that cancer and after five long years, she came up on top of that dratted disease, very recently.

I sit face to face with the lady – a patient, in her own right.

“I am sorry if I am coming into a mother-daughter moment. I will come back tomorrow”, I had said the first day I ran into her.
“Who are you?”
“Oh! I am a volunteer with the hospice service. I came to give your mom company.”
“Well, then you are my friend. Come, sit down.”

From there I started building up the family history…
“Your mom said she is 78. That is how old my dad is!”, I had told her.
“Ha ha, she is 91. She has no idea what she is talking about. Parkinson’s can do that to you”
“Oh!”, I had exclaimed.

As I got to know the history more, I became more and more humbled. Rachel – who is actually my mom’s age – comes and stays with her mom every single afternoon of her life. She helps her with physiotherapy, bathroom stuff and just being there with her.

EVERY. SINGLE. AFTERNOON.

In fact, she and her husband moved to a house next to the hospice so that she can walk up every afternoon!

“How did you learn all these things?”
“About what?”
“How to take care of a terminal patient”.
“Oh! I talk to the doctors, nurses and therapists and then I learn from them! And I copy what they do”

There is a lot of things I learnt about Rachel – that she used to fly kites!! Internationally!!! Met her husband in a kite competition!! (Rick, if you are reading this, I want you to know that I proudly mentioned you to her!!)

But what I learnt most is what a daughter’s unconditional love for her mother is. Now, I am neither a daughter nor a mother. It is difficult for me to put myself in any of those positions. But I can understand from the prospective a human being selflessly giving up every day for another human being.

Mind you, she just fought her own battle with cancer back!!!

Driving back, my mind drifted back to my parents in India. My dad is battling a new tough battle (I will write about it tomorrow). But my first question to myself was – when will I be like Rachel?

When will I learn how to selflessly love those who need our love and caring the most?

16 October 2017

From the bartender’s corner – Tokyo Kaikan Gimlet

Not a bad cocktail for a cold fall evening like today. It is smooth but has enough stiffness to take in the the coldness of the evening. Rather simple ingredients – freshly squeezed lime juice, simple syrup, Rose’s sweetened lime juice and Gin. I have to admit that I am not sure why the recipe calls for the Rose’s juice after I had already put in fresh lime juice and simple syrup. But going my the end product, I am not complaining, mind you!!

15 October 2017

Some Sunday morning English word puzzles

Here are some more interesting English words to get you going on a Sunday. Please feel free to answer in the Comment section if you know or after you have found the answers…

1. I remember growing up during childhood, one of the best things about rains was that typical smell of the earth after the initial showers. I am sure you remember it too – and even experience it today – that earthy smell you get after the first showers – especially if the ground was very dry. There is actually a word to describe that smell. Do you know what it is?

2. I have a not-so-healthy habit of piling up books. When I hear good reviews of a book from friends, I usually go to iBooks, read up a few sample pages and if it still interests me, I buy it. Here is the catch though – I do not often get to reading those books. Sometimes, it takes me a long time to start reading them. Do you have the same habit? That of buying books and not reading them? There is a word to describe that behavior. Do you know it?

3. Any of you who have visited us in our Atlanta house will know that we live in a forest. We love the raw beauty of nature and the privacy of a forest. There is a word to describe people like us who love the forests. What is it?

4. While I dabble a lot in alcohol, I never could get myself to drink beer. Certainly, I understand the production process and categories of various gins, wines, vodkas, whiskies, but I am an absolute neophyte when it comes to beer making. I have heard my friends use a few words – like IPA, hops etc when talking about beer. I never knew what hops are – except that it has to do with beer. Curiosity eventually got the better of me and I looked it up. Well, hops – I found out are a kind of plant and is used during the beer making process. In fact the category of plant that hops belong to is called “bine”. I was sure that was a misprint of “vine” (I guess I was thinking wine – grapes etc etc). Turns out “bine” is the right word. Do you know what a “bine” is? More importantly, what is the difference between a “bine” and a “vine”?

5. If you have gotten to this point, you obviously love words and are at least moderately curious about them. So, we will finish up with a word to describe you. What do you call somebody who is a lover of words?

Here’s to learning a few more new words…